


hopeless place

by iwrotethisat3am



Series: a light in the room [2]
Category: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-17
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:13:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24776689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwrotethisat3am/pseuds/iwrotethisat3am
Summary: Bad dreams came to them both that night. But for the first time since taking Maul into custody, Ahsoka slept.
Relationships: CT-7567 | Rex/Ahsoka Tano
Series: a light in the room [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791976
Comments: 13
Kudos: 144





	hopeless place

The first night wasn’t so bad. They made short conversation, only discussing where they’d stashed their weapons and saying good night, sleep tight, Captain, sleep well, Commander, before going silent to think about what they’d just said and then falling abruptly into the dreamless sleep of the exhausted. 

Well, Rex did, at least. After she was certain that he was asleep, she appointed herself to keep watch, and sat cross-legged on the hull of their battered ship, staring up into the light of the stars and wondering where Anakin, and Obi Wan, and Cody, and Padmé, and Trace, and Rafa, and Barris, were, and what they thought of the new world she lived in.

***

Suu had been hospitable, more hospitable than she had any right to be, especially with the fugitive face of her missing husband staring at her from the doorstep, a second fugitive armed with a deadly laser sword, and two terrified children clinging to her legs. 

She didn’t even ask Rex and Ahsoka to crash in the barn, instead suggesting that they sleep in the house, because it was safer and the nights were beginning to grow cold. (Safer from what? Anything we can’t handle? was Ahsoka’s thought.) Rex and Ahsoka both asked to sleep there, though. They wanted privacy and space — for obvious reasons. They had a largish deal of armor and gear to sort through. They wanted the chance to stay up late in the night and talk without worrying about waking Suu and the kids. And neither of them could stomach a soft, squashy bed the likes of which Suu had described. The taut cots in the barn were comfy from familiarity — just like the rigid barrack bunks or thin sleeping rolls over lumpy battlefields were.

Plus, Suu’d behaved in an . . . oddly . . . friendly . . . manner. Rex and Ahsoka, standing on her door, exchanged a look of worry that their host had some ulterior motives. They took refuge that night in the barn, and talked over their concern that perhaps Suu planned to sell them out to the authorities in order to get Cut back. The former deserter’s whereabouts were completely unknown. One day, he’d gone out to bring the harvest in and had just never returned. Perhaps he’d run into a clone regiment that, unlike Rex so long ago, had seen fit to report him to their commander. Or he’d run into a stray Seperatist detachment. Either way, in the event that he wasn’t dead, he was likely imprisoned somewhere, with people who would gladly exchange him for Republic fugitives, and neither Rex nor Ahsoka had appreciated how long Suu’s eyes had lingered on Rex’s face . . . as if she was seeking out her husband in Rex’s features. 

So Ahsoka and Rex told each other that they’d stay at the farm for a week at most. Their ship could use tuning, their gear could use cleaning, and they had plans to make. Their lives to reforge.

Some of those things came easier than others.

***

The second night felt strange. Neither wanted to talk, but neither could sleep, so they spent half the night staring into the rafters. Rex’s fingers were coiled around his gun and Ahsoka trapped her lightsaber under her side. Uncomfortable, sure. More uncomfortable than the nagging terror that they would need them before the night ended? Absolutely not. When sleep came at last — and it came to Rex only — it was fitful, and full of Jesse’s bloody face and sightless eyes.

When he awoke, he rolled onto his side, realizing that his conditioning was officially breaking down. It made him feel a little like a traitor, a little more useless, but he didn’t care very much. Because good clones weren’t supposed to have bad dreams. They were supposed to be inexorable and indefatigable. They couldn’t be incapacitated by their mistakes or problems. They escaped unscathed, protected by their engineering, even after years of fighting droids, Jedi, bombs, viruses.

Except right now the only thing Rex was fighting was his own inability to breathe. 

Ahsoka sprang off her bed, light as a cat, directly to Rex’s side. He was rolled onto his side facing her. Shaking. His breathing was coming fast and irregular, far too loud. She knelt, trying to peer into his eyes, but his face was mobbed with shadow.

“Rex? Rex?”

Rex couldn’t focus enough to understand her, much less respond. Ahsoka stood and flipped him, gently as she could, onto his back. 

“Can you hear me, Rex?”

He could see her eyes, streaked by moonlight and filled with concern. Against his will, his arms jerked up and smacked her in the montrals. Ahsoka staggered, then pushed him back down, restraining him and peering closer into his eyes. 

“Rex. I need you to calm down.”

He tensed and fought against her grip. Broke free with one hand and snaked it to his throat. He still couldn’t breathe. Ahsoka watched his progress, then eased an arm over his shoulders and leaned him up into a sitting position.

One of her hands found its way to his cheek, although he was shaking so hard that it was difficult to keep it there.

What was happening to him? Kriff, what was happening to him?

Ahsoka edged her weight onto his cot and rested her chin on the top of his head. They sat there for a while, the clone and the Jedi, until purple and red began to bleed from the sky. Ahsoka could only sit with Rex, sending him what little comfort she could, as he met with the horror in his head. At last his breathing slowed and grew even again.

***

“Rex, do you want to talk about it?”

She used his name so much now. That, too, was unfamiliar. Everyone but Anakin had called him captain.

“What do you mean, Commander?”

“It’s Ahsoka,” she reminded him. She stood silhouetted against the fading light, white markings reflecting the fire of the sunset back at him, beyond the ship. “And I mean what happened last night.”

Rex hauled himself out from under the ship, inspecting the oil streaks on his arms before, slowly, responding.

“Due respect, Ahsoka, I think we both know what happened last night, but I just don’t think we have the time or safety to discuss it. Our first priority is getting this ship fixed and our gear stashed.” He placed his tools by his feet and met her gaze. She was staring at him with a look of concern similar to the one she’d worn last night.

“Will you help me?” he said gruffly, gesturing to the ship.

“We’ve been working all day,” she responded, a little more severely. “And in my opinion, fixing the ship won’t be as good for either of us right now as much as a walk will. So, are you coming with me?”

He sighed, but cast his eyes down in defeat. Going on a walk might stave off bedtime a little longer, anyway. Ahsoka proffered her hand to him and he took it. 

“Rex, you don’t have to talk about the order if you don’t want to,” she said gently, as they walked among the long grass away from the ship and into the deepening twilight, “but talking about stuff tends to help. At least, it does in my experience.”

“I just don’t see the priority of talking about it when we still have our survival to focus on,” he said, voice muted by the soft breeze.

“Well, I’d argue that it is for our survival. We must face what happened, acknowledge it, accept it, in order to move on.”

“Jedi wisdom, eh?”

“Well, I’m not a Jedi anymore,” she reminded him. “But, I suppose, yes.”

The wind carried in it the scents of autumn: leaf matter, earth, smoke from the fires Suu used to burn the unusable parts of the crops. And a deepening chill in the air. Rex was cold, wearing blacks with the sleeves cut at the shoulder so the fabric could be used as a protective mask for working on the ship’s exhaust vents. Ahsoka must be cold, too, he noted, having left her cloak back at the barn.

“I’ve faced it in my dreams already, Com — Ahsoka,” Rex said.

“That’s not really facing it. If you don’t mind my asking, what was your dream about?” They wound their way through the grass, into the trees.

He bowed his head. “Jesse.”

“What about him?”

Silence for a moment. “His body. After the crash.”

“Oh.” Ahsoka sucked in air sharply. “I recall.”

There was another silence between them, touched only by the whistling of the wind. Then, 

“His life — it was taken too soon, Commander,” Rex said suddenly. “It was too soon. Jesse was a good man, my brother. He defended me and I him. And at the last, he — he was more willing to die in that hellhole of a ship than not kill us.” Tears stung his eyes and he stopped in his tracks. “Commander. That was my brother. They were all my brothers. I keep — thinking — that maybe — ”

Ahsoka was dismayed by how fast and suddenly it was pouring out of Rex — but she saw the quickening of his breath and the difficulty with which his words began to come out, and she was ready when his legs buckled. Catching him, she helped him sit on the grove floor, the long grass waving around them and lashing at their faces. Rex hunched over. He pressed his hands back to his neck, panting uncontrollably again.

“Maybe — maybe — maybe he’ll —”

Maybe he’ll come walking around the corner — pop up and make a joke — say something sassy — brag about being made an ARC trooper again again — call Rex captain again — call Ahsoka commander again — maybe he’ll — maybe —

***

That night Ahsoka asked Rex if she could join him in his cot, and he accepted with only a trifling hesitation — surprise, not doubt. He scooted over for her and she pressed into his side.

“Am I taking up too much room?”

“No. Still comfier than most battlefields,” he said after a moment.

Neither sought to cuddle with the other. Just being not alone was first and foremost in their thoughts. Even so, Rex’s head fit very naturally into the curve between Ahsoka’s montrals, and there really wasn’t space enough in the cot for her head and hands to go anywhere but on his chest. And his arm would’ve gone numb underneath her unless he wrapped it over her shoulders.

“Commander?” he asked, tentatively, after working their way into position over the course of an hour.

“Captain?” she answered, voice muffled from sleep and his shirt.

“This is very much against regulations,” he said.

He felt her body begin to vibrate beneath his hands. It took him a moment to realize that Ahsoka was laughing. Slowly, uneasily, Rex began to loosen a little . . . and then he started laughing too.

Bad dreams came to them both that night. But for the first time since taking Maul into custody, Ahsoka slept. And when Rex woke up unable to breathe again, lifeless faces and betrayal swimming in his eyes, she was there for him again, bloodshot eyes peering up at his, one hand on his cheek and the other tentatively rubbing his shoulders, her sitting up with him until he found the courage to shut his eyes again.

***

Jek was utterly fascinated with Rex. His sister, not as much — Rex radiated a strange kind of grief and ominousness that the little girl was old enough to understand — but Jek missed his father, and Rex looked just like him. He volunteered to feed the animals just to catch a glimpse of Rex, then, when he felt a little braver, to talk to Rex, and then, one day, when Ahsoka returned from helping Suu with the harvest — lightsabers attached — he could be found sitting cross-legged in front of Rex, cradling Rex’s helmet.

Ahsoka paused in the doorway, unwilling to interrupt. Rex and Jek were entirely engrossed by each other.

“What’s a jaig?”

“It’s a type of bird, like the big hawks you get around here,” Rex said. Ahsoka was surprised by how soft he sounded. A distinct contrast from his soldier voice, and the gruff-scratchy-sad voice he’d been using the past few days. 

“With such big eyes?” Jek traced the jaig eyes.

“Well, I guess, Jek. I’ve never seen one in person.”

“Then why’d you put them on your helmet?”

“Thought they looked cool. And they were awarded to me, as a status symbol from an officer.”

His terminology was a touch complicated to use with a six-year-old, Ahsoka thought.

Jek turned the helmet over in his hands. “My dad was a soldier.”

“Yeah, I remember. We talked about it the last time I was here.”

“He became a farmer later. But being a soldier sounds more exciting,” Jek told Rex.

“It’s very exciting,” Rex said quietly. “We do all sorts of things. Saw many planets, many people.”

“Did you fly ships? I mean, the big ones? The — destroyers?”

Soft laughter. “Ah, I know how. Never really flown ‘em myself, though, though I’ve flown plenty of ships in my time. Like that one out there.”

Jek kicked his legs. “I wonder if my dad knows how to do that. I wonder — do — do you think he’s out there?”

The admission of concern seemed to surprise Rex. Ahsoka saw the lines around his eyes soften, and the soldier’s hand reach out the little boy’s knee.

“I’m sure he is, Jek. He loves you too much to leave you. That’s why he didn’t want to be a soldier, for one thing. He wanted you instead.”

Something in Ahsoka squeezed painfully at Rex’s words — the tenderness, maybe, but even more than that the sound of . . . was that loss? Rex had only briefly filled Ahsoka in on his previous tenure at Cut’s, and now she was left to wonder if there was anything more to Rex’s decision not to report Cut for deserting than pity for the other clone. 

Jek was quiet. Then, “you look just like him,” he repeated, and reached up. “But why is your hair blonde?”

Rex laughed again. Jek scrambled up and felt Rex’s hair, which was much shorter and lighter than Cut’s had been.

“It feels so weird,” Jek said in a voice of awe.

“Well, you know what I think’s weird. You don’t have any hair,” Rex teased, poking Jek. Jek bounced back and giggled, then went back to touching Rex’s hair with a look of fascination. Somehow he ended up plastered against the clone, almost cuddling with him, Rex’s eyes half-closed against the touch and an uncertain smile on his face. Ahsoka was melting in the doorway, half-resisting her own smile. 

“Can I try on the helmet? Please? Please?” Jek asked.

“Uh, sure, kid,” Rex said, after a momentary hesitation. Jek eagerly slipped on the offered helmet and backed up a few steps, looking around within the helmet. Rex covered his mouth, but Ahsoka saw his shoulders shake. Jek stabbed a finger at the clone. “You’re the droid. I’m the clone. Watch out!”

Rex tucked his legs up while Jek ran towards the door, laughing, presumably seeking out a defensive position — and didn’t see Ahsoka until he ran into her. He pranced backward, looking up at her. She could sense his worry.

“You good there, Captain Jek?” she asked, entering the barn.

“Jek! Ahsoka, Rex. It’s time for dinner,” Suu’s voice rang out crisply from the door to the house. 

“Coming, Mom,” Jek squealed, voice tinny from inside the helmet. He removed his helmet and beamed at Ahsoka, then returned the helmet to Rex and ran towards the voice of his mother. Before entering the house, he paused and looked back at the other two. “Are you two coming?”

“Yes. In a moment,” Ahsoka answered. Jek left, and she turned towards Rex, putting her hands on her hips. “Having fun?”

“He’s a sweet kid, Commander. Quite — eh, cute. Plus, good taste in helmets,” Rex chuckled. He was still using the soft tone of voice he’d used with Jek, and he looked up at her with eyes bright and clear.

She knelt in front of him, tracing the helmet’s jaig eyes. “Both of you do. Even if you didn’t bother to paint yours with my markings,” she smirked up at him.

He laughed and shifted his weight. “Sentimental value, Comman — Ahsoka. What can I say? It’s served me well. But yeah, I had a bucket with your colors back on the ship.”

She noted that he was referencing the crash without bitterness, and something inside her broke a little. His hand joined hers on the bucket, tracing the familiar lines.

“You see yourself in Jek, don’t you?” she asked, then almost immediately regretted what she said, but still looked keenly towards him.

His eyes shifted to meet hers. “Only a little. I see Cut there. Cut was, in a way, braver than many of the men I’ve fought with.”

“How so?” She sat cross-legged, facing Rex. Looks like they were in for a deeper talk than she’d bargained for.

“He was — well — brave enough to leave. Go for what he wanted, rather than blindly follow his engineering.”

To Rex, every word felt like a betrayal.

“I thought you liked being a soldier,” Ahsoka said disbelievingly.

“I did. I mean, I do. But I made a choice, in the end, to stay. And many of my brothers never thought of that choice. At least, not that I know of. And to do what Cut did, to have a family, to have children, was a huge risk on his part, and was . . . in my opinion . . . extremely brave. And smart, in light of, well . . .” he trailed off.

They were coming too close to painful conversation, and Ahsoka didn’t want to alarm Rex again. Nor did she like the weight that was spreading over her chest, eliminating the sweetness she’d felt before, watching Rex and Jek cuddle. 

Because Ahsoka Tano was there for others. And when she needed help, others were usually there for her. But with no Anakin, no Obi-Wan, and with the typically stoic Rex suffering from breakdowns that were coming without notice and with physical side effects that required medical aid of a type and severity she didn’t know how to provide, she didn’t see fit — like Rex didn’t with his own dreams — to address the fear and sadness that were currently growing inside of her, like a shadow, stifling out warmth and light. 

Some piece of this meant that, when Rex’s fingers brushed over hers . . . an accident, she was sure, he was seeking only to trace the other jaig eye . . . she flipped her hand over and caught his in hers, then leaned forward at the same time he did, and they wrapped each other impulsively in a hug. She could sense the surprise at himself and her actions emanating off him, but ignored it and closed her eyes, soaking him up affectionately. He felt good and sweet.

***

Their fourth night at the farm was spent half in planning. Suu was growing ever more uneasy around them, intensifying their suspicions that she had contacted or was going to contact authorities in an effort to find and bail out Cut, wherever he was, and bring him home.

Ahsoka and Rex debated seeking Cut out for Suu, and while both were inclined to do so, they had no leads nor possibility of getting any. Further, they were on the run, and would only draw more attention to Cut and to Suu and their children. To do so would bring ruin on them both. 

Therefore, if they found Cut, they would do so at their next base, at which — although they hadn’t decided on a location yet — they would try to find out if any other Jedi or clones had been able to escape the order. 

When they turned to the subject of Anakin and Obi-Wan and Maul and the Senate — to the subject of what had happened to the rest of the world, what exactly was going on, who else was out there, who knew what was going on, who to find, how to find them, and the implication of who had perpetrated the betrayal of the clones — they talked about it for a few minutes, then Ahsoka couldn’t help but find herself thinking too much of Anakin, and she fell silent, remembering Maul’s warnings, remembering her vision. 

Rex looked at her keenly and rested a handle her shoulder, then suggested she get to bed. When she refused, he told her it was an order, threatening her with his status as a Commander versus hers as an advisor. He’d managed to elicit a laugh at that and he escorted her to her cot, a steadying arm wrapped around her waist. He retired himself then, lying on his side so he could keep a watchful eye on Ahsoka, trying to stave off his dreams again.

Just as sleep was beginning to overtake him, he felt Ahsoka scoot him over and curl up beside him again. He nestled naturally into her curves and her montrals, arm wrapped around her, enjoying the weight of her head and her hands on his chest, keeping her grounded.

Ahsoka did her best to keep still, let Rex get the rest he needed, but she couldn’t help but fidget, unable to sleep. Their conversation, and the silence after it, filled her brain. Anakin — where was he? 

At some point, when she was half-asleep and suddenly Anakin and the dead clones and the life she’d lost came rushing back into her head and she rolled over with a sharp gasp, she fled the bed, fearing to wake Rex, and went outside to sit on the ship again, facing the stars and seeking out who she was again. Searching out tomorrow, wondering what would happen next. It all seemed so uncertain, so useless, so not up to her. Faith seemed forlorn in the weak, trembling light of the moon, and she felt utterly alone but for — Rex —

He came up to the side of the ship, scratching his head to chase away the fogs of sleep.

“Can’t sleep, Commander?”

“I’m not a commander, Rex.”

“Ahsoka.” 

He shimmied up the ship to sit beside her, cross-legged, uncertainly glancing at her.

“You’re thinking of the Jedi again, aren’t you?”

She was quiet for a moment. “Yes. I can’t stop thinking about what we need to do next, but it all seems so impossible.”

“Well, I can’t stop thinking of yesterday,” he said in a half-hearted attempt at a joke. “So we balance each other out, then. But, Ahsoka . . .” He turned towards her. “You did your duty, Commander, the best that you could. You deserve . . . peace.”

“There is no peace in the galaxy, Rex.”

“Well, what can I do?”

He felt so useless.

Her eyes mirrored the starlight at him, and were full of sympathy that made him feel a little more useless. But she was very beautiful, and very pure, and very much in need of comfort.

“Just us being here, together, is what you can do,” she told him, and scooted closer to rest her head on his shoulder. He put his arm around her again, without thinking. His devolving conditioning made not a particular of protest. At one point, she began to cry, soaking his chest, but he wrapped himself around her more tightly until at last she had cried herself out and the sun had risen.

***

Ahsoka was bored. Proof that her training was breaking down a bit, too. Not her skill — her discipline. Rex couldn’t fault her for it. They were both fracturing, and that had to happen before they could put themselves back together. While she spent the forenoon practicing with her lightsabers behind the barn, using a cluster of boulders as her target, he helped Suu haul in the harvest, and that’s how he ended upon his hands and knees in the field, out of Suu’s sight, heaving over and over for air until he was at last flat on his back, trying to call for help, utterly unable to breathe as good soldiers follow orders orders orders filled his brain along with Jesse’s face.

It took him less time to recover — only forty-five minutes — so Suu didn’t miss him. He helped her create a bonfire of the crop discards and then started it for her while she went inside to help her children. Panic flared inside him unexpectedly, and his chest caught, but all he could do was put his chin in his hands and struggle for air while Ahsoka knelt in the back and wept.

By the time the bonfire began in earnest and Suu, the kids, and Rex and Ahsoka had come together for what Suu’s family termed a bonfire party, Rex had made a tremendous effort to calm his breathing, and Ahsoka had dried her tears. Jek played a clone with his sister and Rex and Ahsoka played droids, then when the kids grew tired, Rex and Ahsoka sat together, watching the fire burn down, until their hosts had gone inside and it was only the two of them again.

Neither of them knew quite what to do. Sitting as close as they had sat before seemed unwarranted — irregular — awkward; but both were in need of comfort. Somehow they ended up close together anyway, and cuddled away the sunset. Dimly, Ahsoka appreciated how strong and firm and warm his body was, and how comforting that solidness felt to her . . . and she placed her hands on his chest, taking in the solid lines of his muscles. Unbeknownst to her, his eyes widened at the contact, but he didn’t feel like moving and disturbing her now. She fell asleep pressed up against him, while he sat with his eyes trained upon the moon.

***

That night, when it became too cold for Rex to sit in comfort, and he feared that the biting chill would wake Ahsoka too, he gently eased an arm under her legs and lifted her. In his experience, Jedi usually slept very lightly, but for some reason she didn’t wake up now. He carried her into the barn and lay her on her own cot. His own seemed lonely that night, and he kept waking up, sweating, lost, struggling to breathe, until dawn returned to the sky.

***

Ahsoka rolled over when she awoke, hands seeking out Rex, who she’d grown used to sleeping with while at the farm. Then the events of last night returned to her.

Oh, Kriff.

Not that it was a bad thing — right? No, not against orders, not anymore. But she couldn’t deal with this. Neither of them could. There wasn’t time for romance right now — kriffing kriff did she say romance? 

“Commander,” said a confident voice. Embarrassment flooded through, flavored with — eugh, excitement? — she rolled over and saw him peering down at her from the top of her cot.

“Breakfast is ready, Commander. And the ship is ready to roll.”

“If you don’t stop calling me Commander, Rex, I’m going to start calling you Commander,” she told him severely, and sat up on her cot, legs swinging. “So the ship is ready?”

“Whenever we are. But I don’t think our plans are quite ready to fly. Not if we don’t have a base pegged out.”

“Or enough supplies stocked to get us there.” She glanced at him, for some reason feeling the heat again when she did. His blacks were so revealing. Why had that escaped her notice before? “Do you think Suu will help us top of our rations?”

“It’s worth a shot. But, Ahsoka,” he squatted, “do you really trust her?”

“You know her better than I do,” she pointed out.

“Then I say we . . . don’t ask,” he said heavily. “We’ve got an important mission ahead of us, and their family has enough.”

“I don’t know, Rex,” she hedged. “They don’t have Cut anymore, and you and I both know it’s not likely that he’s coming back. I don’t know if Suu can handle this farm on her own. They might need these rations to get them through the winter.”

“I honestly don’t think it can be helped. That’s my recommendation.” He cut himself off before he could say commander.

“Just because other people’s standards are dropping right now doesn’t mean that you and I need to cave. That’s not what we stand for,” Ahsoka returned, more firmly. “Isn’t there any way we can help Cut?”

“We’ve been over this. There isn’t.”

She could sense him becoming exasperated, but she wasn’t about to back down. She stood, shaking out her lekku and stretching briefly. He crossed his arms, insistent to himself that he wasn’t going to focus on anything . . . like all that . . . right now. “I understand how you feel, Ahsoka, but this is survival we’re talking about. They will more than likely be alright. The same isn’t true for us with us already running as low on rations as we are already.”

“We’re going to ask,” Ahsoka declared, and pivoted towards the door.

***

Suu tried to bargain supplies for them finding her husband. Ahsoka and Rex spent an hour talking it over with her, explaining how it wasn’t possible, and at the end of it she and her daughter were both crying while Jek had run off to hide. The fugitives spent the day hauling in crops and packing rations, using their short breaks to continue planning. As the dusk fell Suu came to them to report that Jek was missing. She blamed his distress on them, and demanded they find him.

Ahsoka and Rex, both troubled, acquiesced at once, and went to the barn to find their lights and Rex’s blasters — as a just-in-case. (Ahsoka always wore her lightsabers.) But they found Jek sitting on Rex’s cot, cradling Rex’s helmet in his lap, tears tracked down his cheeks.

“Jek? Are you alright?” Ahsoka asked cautiously. “We haven’t seen you all day.”

Jek was silent for a moment. Then he burst out:

“Why won’t you find my dad?”

Ahsoka and Rex exchanged a troubled look. Then Rex approached Jek, extending a hand to the little boy.

“We explained it to your mother, Jek,” he said gently. “It would put you all in greater danger. Instead of getting your father back, it might mean losing you.”

“I thought you two were heroes,” Jek spat back, fresh tears brimming in his eyes. “But I don’t think you are anymore. Not if you won’t help us.”

He was gone in a flash, leaving Rex’s helmet spinning in the dirt.

That was the sixth night they spent at Suu’s farm, and Ahsoka again came to Rex for comfort. This time, they both sobbed together, at first just quiet tears, them both wrapping themselves together, then their pain coming faster and stronger, until Rex’s shirt was soaked with Ahsoka’s tears and Ahsoka’s montrals were rather damp. 

***

Ahsoka sensed no more plotting in Suu. The family seemed to have accepted that Cut, if he ever came back, was going to have to come back the long way round. With their acceptance, however, came an unmistakable desire to have Ahsoka and Rex gone.

Lonely travelers, they were. Wanderers in a strange land, in a brutally new world. Some of this was on Ahsoka’s mind as they spent the day packing their ship. But nighttime was falling, and with exhaustion and maybe a little sympathy in her face, Suu told them both they could stay just one more night.

There were no deep conversations before bed tonight. Both felt a new sense of urgency. The dream and the nightmare of the last week was over, and it was time for weakness to be shed and reality to be assumed. They each uttered a formal good-night to the other and retired to their separate cots. Both assumed that the either was asleep, but every time Rex came close, his breathing hitched and panic flared, and Ahsoka had no desire to.

When it became clear that sleep was not coming for her, and enough time had passed to think that Rex was surely asleep, she piled into his cot again, and was shocked to find his hands pulling her close, settling her back into the position they’d found most comfortable before. She intertwined her fingers with his, and he stopped, unsure of himself, unsure of what she was doing.

She wasn’t sure, either. She flipped over, putting a hand on his chest, and looked into his eyes, seeking comfort there.

His eyes mirrored her confusion back at her, plus moonlight, plus trust.

She sank into him and he sank into her, and something broke — certainly his conditioning, and her training — and one of his arms wrapped around her thighs, the other around her waist, and her hands found his shoulders, and not knowing what possessed her, she kissed him and he kissed back. They pressed tightly, tightly together, desperately, as if something was going to rip them apart. His hands caressed her lekku and her waist, and hers slipped along his chest, feeling the other, needing to know the other was there, was solid, was there — 

The dream of the past was ending. The nightmare of her current life was dispelling. It was reality, now — and of course it always had been. 

When Ahsoka came up, slowly, from the deep, she for the first time was able to relax from the notion of tomorrow. Instead of tomorrow, instead of yesterday, there was only today, tonight, the stars winking through the rafters and the feeling of him melting in her hands. After an unknown amount of time he lay back against the cot and she rested against him, her cheek resting against his, still wrapped around each other, feeling the other, taking the other in.

Like on the ship, when their lives and their worlds were shattering around them in fire, all they had was to be together. And that, for now, was all that they could want.

**Author's Note:**

> A sad piece of writing, but I have happier stuff coming in my series of work about Rex and Ahsoka. An exploration of their emotional states and a blossoming romance. Not yet revised. 
> 
> My first fanfiction so I would be absolutely honored to receive comments and critiques. 
> 
> Please send me requests for this pair! I absolutely love them and they’re so natural to write for.


End file.
